cop car pull to the curb. A very big, very wide, very tall officer in a dark blue uniform got out. He took off his sunglasses and gazed down the sidewalk.
“Have you signed up yet to come for Career Day and talk to the class about being a tax lawyer?” Carson asked his dad.
“I think so. I checked every box there was.”
A server put a basket of warm tortilla chips in the middle of the table, and a small bowl of salsa. They ordered guacamole to go with the chips.
“I’ll ask Mr. Lipman about setting a date.”
A guy wearing a beautiful fancy black velvetsombrero and pants with silver buttons on the sides strolled around the room, playing a guitar and singing.
“Is there a Wannabe Day?” asked Carson’s dad. “Maybe I could come in and play my guitar and sing some oldies but goodies. Like ‘La Bamba.’ ”
“La Bamba” was his dad’s ringtone.
“I think Career Days are for actual jobs only. Time’s a-tickin’, Dad.”
His dad looked at his watch and dabbed a small blob of guacamole off the face with one corner of his napkin.
Before long, Carson was staring at a white oval plate filled with creamy refried beans, crisp shredded lettuce, and a huge steamy burrito topped with sour cream. His dad had settled on
arroz con pollo
—a generous pile of chicken and tender mushrooms stuck together with melted white cheese on a bed of fluffy pink rice.
His dad shoveled a large bite in, held up five fingers, and said, “Five stars.”
With his spoon, Carson cleaned off the sour cream he had plopped on the front of his hoodie. “I agree.”
“I’ll wash it, Carson. Ain’t no biggie. Like father, like son, eh?”
“Thanks, Dad. It keeps shrinking in the dryer!”
“Well, maybe it’s you getting bigger. Ever thought of that?”
Carson hadn’t.
Eventually, Carson’s dad sat back and suggested taking a breather.
“Want another Whiz Quiz clue?” Carson asked him.
“Okay, shoot.”
Carson looked at his dad. “Braves caves.”
“Braves caves? A bat?”
“No. Next: Air in its hair.”
“Lion! Lion, king of beasts, standing on a ridge, in front of a cave, with its mane blowing in the wind.”
Carson’s dad waved to the musician and politely asked, “Do you know ‘La Bamba’?”
They both loudly sang the song in Spanish.
Carson looked out the window. The patrol car was gone.
12. HELLO,
Star Jar
The next morning Carson sat quietly while Mr. Lipman took attendance and lunch count and read the announcements:
Principal’s Update: Nuisance Bird
A large great horned owl decoy has been temporarily removed from the kindergarten garden and situated in the pine tree to discourage the Nuisance Bird from remaining in the area.
If problems persist, there will be an immediate attempt by the Wildlife RescueCenter to capture and relocate this unpleasant and aggressive bird to a more appropriate environment. Thank you to Patrick Tapp’s mother for the offer.
Reminder: no food is to be left unsupervised unless appropriately contained.
No worries. Carson’s half a burrito supreme was in his new canvas lunch bag, along with an orange, a juice drink, and a few
buñuelos
.
Zipped up safe and sound.
Wes tipped sideways in his chair almost to the point of falling off. “I like the Nuisance Bird,” he told Carson. “Do you? I’m not mad at him for dive-bombing me. He was just protecting his territory. FYI: I wasn’t aiming to hit him with the pen—just scaring him off. It’s my territory, too!”
Carson said nothing. He wanted to ask Wes where the heck he was on Saturday at six p.m. but didn’t. He didn’t want Wes to know they fell for his big fat whopper!
Wes continued: “Bob is a hungry old crow who has a botched-up beak and busted tail feathers andonly one skinny, crooked leg to hop around on. He can’t hop into a Porsche and drive down to the store to buy himself some candy bears.”
“They’re not candy bears. They’re fruit bears.”
“Well, whatever they are, that’s what
“Have you signed up yet to come for Career Day and talk to the class about being a tax lawyer?” Carson asked his dad.
“I think so. I checked every box there was.”
A server put a basket of warm tortilla chips in the middle of the table, and a small bowl of salsa. They ordered guacamole to go with the chips.
“I’ll ask Mr. Lipman about setting a date.”
A guy wearing a beautiful fancy black velvetsombrero and pants with silver buttons on the sides strolled around the room, playing a guitar and singing.
“Is there a Wannabe Day?” asked Carson’s dad. “Maybe I could come in and play my guitar and sing some oldies but goodies. Like ‘La Bamba.’ ”
“La Bamba” was his dad’s ringtone.
“I think Career Days are for actual jobs only. Time’s a-tickin’, Dad.”
His dad looked at his watch and dabbed a small blob of guacamole off the face with one corner of his napkin.
Before long, Carson was staring at a white oval plate filled with creamy refried beans, crisp shredded lettuce, and a huge steamy burrito topped with sour cream. His dad had settled on
arroz con pollo
—a generous pile of chicken and tender mushrooms stuck together with melted white cheese on a bed of fluffy pink rice.
His dad shoveled a large bite in, held up five fingers, and said, “Five stars.”
With his spoon, Carson cleaned off the sour cream he had plopped on the front of his hoodie. “I agree.”
“I’ll wash it, Carson. Ain’t no biggie. Like father, like son, eh?”
“Thanks, Dad. It keeps shrinking in the dryer!”
“Well, maybe it’s you getting bigger. Ever thought of that?”
Carson hadn’t.
Eventually, Carson’s dad sat back and suggested taking a breather.
“Want another Whiz Quiz clue?” Carson asked him.
“Okay, shoot.”
Carson looked at his dad. “Braves caves.”
“Braves caves? A bat?”
“No. Next: Air in its hair.”
“Lion! Lion, king of beasts, standing on a ridge, in front of a cave, with its mane blowing in the wind.”
Carson’s dad waved to the musician and politely asked, “Do you know ‘La Bamba’?”
They both loudly sang the song in Spanish.
Carson looked out the window. The patrol car was gone.
12. HELLO,
Star Jar
The next morning Carson sat quietly while Mr. Lipman took attendance and lunch count and read the announcements:
Principal’s Update: Nuisance Bird
A large great horned owl decoy has been temporarily removed from the kindergarten garden and situated in the pine tree to discourage the Nuisance Bird from remaining in the area.
If problems persist, there will be an immediate attempt by the Wildlife RescueCenter to capture and relocate this unpleasant and aggressive bird to a more appropriate environment. Thank you to Patrick Tapp’s mother for the offer.
Reminder: no food is to be left unsupervised unless appropriately contained.
No worries. Carson’s half a burrito supreme was in his new canvas lunch bag, along with an orange, a juice drink, and a few
buñuelos
.
Zipped up safe and sound.
Wes tipped sideways in his chair almost to the point of falling off. “I like the Nuisance Bird,” he told Carson. “Do you? I’m not mad at him for dive-bombing me. He was just protecting his territory. FYI: I wasn’t aiming to hit him with the pen—just scaring him off. It’s my territory, too!”
Carson said nothing. He wanted to ask Wes where the heck he was on Saturday at six p.m. but didn’t. He didn’t want Wes to know they fell for his big fat whopper!
Wes continued: “Bob is a hungry old crow who has a botched-up beak and busted tail feathers andonly one skinny, crooked leg to hop around on. He can’t hop into a Porsche and drive down to the store to buy himself some candy bears.”
“They’re not candy bears. They’re fruit bears.”
“Well, whatever they are, that’s what
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